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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23290411">Not Enough of the Other</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/stew'>stew (julie)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Professionals (TV 1977)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Episode: s04e12 Mixed Doubles, Friends to Lovers, Honesty, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>1990-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>1990-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:07:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,552</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23290411</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/stew</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This case has Bodie and Doyle unusually rattled – and contemplating what happens next, whether in life or the afterlife.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>William Bodie/Ray Doyle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Not Enough of the Other</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><strong>Notes:</strong> Based  in and around episode 412 <em>Mixed Doubles</em>. </p><p><strong>First published:</strong> in the zine “Chalk and Cheese” #7 by Whatever You Do, Don’t Press in  November 1990.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>Not Enough of the Other </h1><p>♦</p><p>“Luckily, I’m going the other way,” Bodie smugly declared  from somewhere near Doyle’s feet. </p><p>Doyle tried to muffle his laughter in the hood of his  sleeping bag. “An eternity of pitchforks and brimstone for you, is it? That  would be right.” </p><p>“You believe in Hell, don’t you, Doyle? Knew you had a  sadistic streak. Well, if you’re right and I’m wrong, you can come visit me on  weekends. Bring me some iced tea, if you and Cowley can spare any.” </p><p>“Sorry. I’ll be having too good a time in Heaven to think  about you.” </p><p>“Doing what? Playing harps and floating around on clouds?  Look silly in a white robe, you would. Although wings are a nice idea,” Bodie  mused. “Yeah, come visit your poor old partner shovelling coals, and show off  your wings. Could waft cool breezes across his sweating brow with them… Being  careful not to fan the flames any higher, of course.” </p><p>“<em>Hell </em>of an  imagination you’ve got there, Bodie. Came free in a packet of cornflakes, did  it?” </p><p>“Along with my driving licence and a tiny plastic golliwog,”  Bodie agreed. “I hate to spoil your illusions, sunshine, but Heaven will bore  you to tears. Much better to chuck your lot in with me in the long run.” </p><p>“It’s the long run I’m worried about. And the fact that you’ll  probably scrape through into heaven, anyway. Isn’t it Cowley’s lot in life to  redeem your soul? How many atrocities did you commit in Africa that you haven’t  atoned for yet? Can’t be that many left. I reckon Cowley will drag you up to Heaven  with him, mate, like it or not.” </p><p>“Prefer the Eternal Fire, thanks. Wouldn’t be allowed any of  my hobbies Upstairs. God wouldn’t approve if me and the birds scorched the  clouds…” </p><p>Doyle sat up again, no longer able to even pretend  sleepiness. “You have a very simplistic notion of all this, Bodie,” he observed  with a frown. </p><p>“Don’t believe in ‘all this’ in the first place, do I?” </p><p>“You reckon there’ll just be nothing when you go?” Doyle  shook his head. “Can’t imagine that ego of yours just fading away like a wisp  of smoke. It’s too stubborn, for a start. And too impressed with itself.” </p><p>“So maybe I’ll haunt the corridors of CI5… scare the new  recruits… feel up the typists with no fear of a slap in the face… be in the  right place at the right time when Susan Fischer takes a shower…” </p><p>“I really feel sorry for you, mate. Must be such a pain  having your mind dragging along in the gutter all the time.” </p><p>“Yeah, a permanent state of gravel rash.” Bodie sat up, too,  and they faced each other, legs cocooned in sleeping bags, torsos in loose  shirts. “Got any tea left?” Bodie asked. </p><p>“Only if you don’t want to save it for breakfast.” </p><p>“See, that’s where my mind comes in handy, dwelling on  important matters like birds and food. Planned ahead, didn’t I, and told  Jenkins to bring us in something special for brekky. Tell me you deserve such  thoughtful treatment.”</p><p>“Last meal for the condemned men, is it?” Doyle said  heavily. </p><p>“I told you to cut it out, Ray. Talking like that doesn’t do  anyone any good.”</p><p>“Just because you won’t face up to reality.” </p><p>“Shut up and pass the thermos, would you?” Bodie poured them  each a mug. He’d drunk down half of his when he asked, “What’s the time?”</p><p>Doyle checked his watch. “Not even midnight. Eleven-twenty,  to be precise.” </p><p>“God…” Bodie groaned. “Should have brought some beer.” </p><p>“Once again I remembered not to. What else are partners for?” </p><p>“Damned if I know. Still trying to figure that one out  myself.” Bodie shrugged and added, “For talking through stakeouts, maybe?” </p><p>“We’ve been talking since it got dark and everyone else  packed up their toys and went home. My vocal chords are getting sore.” </p><p>“Poor soul. And that <em>was</em> the last of the tea.” </p><p>“And Jenkins won’t arrive until seven, I suppose.” </p><p>Bodie shook his head in glum reply, and they sat silent for  a while. </p><p>Eventually Bodie asked, “Have you wondered why we’re so  nervy over this one? As opposed to, say, having Ramos on the loose or the  Wakeman bird killing us off two by two?” </p><p>“Now that’s a bloody silly question,” Doyle burst out. “If  you’re seriously asking that this late in the operation, I’m calling for back-up.” </p><p>“No need,” Bodie said mildly. “Just don’t usually get in  such a flap about ops, do we? Look at us – sitting here, knowing we should have  been asleep an hour ago, you saying you should have told your Claire a few  things last week, and me…” </p><p>“Yeah, what are you doing?” </p><p>“Wrote the last of my letters before I came, didn’t I?” </p><p>“I know what’s got me spooked,” Doyle said. “Cowley.” </p><p>“Rarely seen him so serious,” Bodie agreed. “But you can’t  think he’d throw us away on a suicide mission. We’re the best he’s got – you  heard him and Macklin.” </p><p>“Comforting, isn’t it? Doesn’t mean we’re not expendable.” </p><p>“No – he’d call off the whole shebang if he thought it was  that dangerous. Face it, if he thought we might buy the farm in this, then  Parsali would be a dead duck. He wouldn’t risk that.” </p><p>Doyle sighed. “The Arabs have got me spooked, too. They don’t  think like we do – we don’t think like them, more to the point, and I can’t get  my head around the… well, <em>fanaticism</em> it looks like to us, doesn’t it? There’s any number of groups who want Parsali  dead – so this could be any one of them, or all of them at once.” </p><p>“So it might be a nutter on a kamikaze run – we already  figured that.” </p><p>“Hate that. You can’t predict them, can’t rely on them  having any limits. No rhyme or reason.” </p><p>“Maybe they hired someone.” Bodie shrugged. “The assassin  might not be a die-hard for the cause. Then it’s back to predictable.” </p><p>“On a maybe. And if it is a hired gun, then they’re the  best. And the best might be better than us.” </p><p>“Unlikely, sunshine. I’ve yet to meet my match.” </p><p>Doyle gave him  a sour look. “Start praying you don’t meet him tomorrow. You know who they’ll  take out second, don’t you?” </p><p>“Yeah, we’re on the list right after Parsali. Gives us a  chance to get them first, doesn’t it?” Bodie sighed. “Still, I reckon there  must be another reason why we’re so nervy. There’s nothing so different in this  op from what we’ve faced a hundred times before.” </p><p>“I don’t know, Bodie,” Doyle said uneasily. “We’ve got to  run out of luck sometime.” </p><p>“How long have we been partnered?” </p><p>Doyle shrugged, had to think a moment. “A little over five  years.” </p><p>“You’ve come a long way, you know. Never would guess, these  days, that you used to be a copper. And you’re teamed with the star of CI5, don’t  forget. What could possibly go wrong?” </p><p>Facing Bodie’s flippant smile, Doyle suddenly ground out, “For  all that, we might die tomorrow.” </p><p>“You want to make it happen that way?” Bodie came right back  at him. “Go in believing that you’re going to die, and guess what happens? Your  wish comes true.” </p><p>“It’s not a wish, damn it.” </p><p>“It’s a bloody invitation to the Grim Reaper, that’s what it  is. I’ve seen it happen, you know. People who expect to die, <em>do</em> die.” </p><p>“And a positive attitude keeps the bullets out, does it,  like some bloody force-field?” </p><p>“No, but you’re more likely to act as if you’re in danger  rather than just accepting it as fate. You’ve got to go in prepared to do  anything to get out of there – not in the frame of mind where you don’t think  that it matters <em>what</em> you do. Use the  adrenalin, the fear, let them keep your reactions sharp – don’t let them use  you.” </p><p>Doyle stared down the tirade, eyes wide in mock disbelief. “All right, all right. Learnt all this in  cop school, you know.” </p><p>“For God’s sake, Ray… Call me superstitious if you want, but  don’t go asking Death along with us tomorrow. I don’t like his company.” </p><p>“All right.” Doyle shifted uncomfortably. He gazed around  the room, but when it came to a choice of looking at Bodie or the lopsided  circle of wood panelling that was illuminated by their lamp, Bodie won. Just.  Doyle grinned sheepishly. “You realize that these are my glory days? Not much,  are they? Nothing I’d want to tell my grandchildren about.” </p><p>“My solution to that is not to have grandchildren.” </p><p>“What about <em>your</em> glory days? Africa, I guess.” </p><p>“No, ’fraid this is it,” Bodie declared with a singular lack  of enthusiasm. They were silent  again for a while, until Bodie asked, “What were those few things you wanted to  tell Claire?” </p><p>“Typical. Want to comfort her in her grief, do you? Good  time to move in on her, mate, very classy. Make sure you buy me a decent  wreath, though. She won’t be impressed if you skimp.” </p><p>“Just curious,” Bodie protested. </p><p>After a moment, Doyle relented. “I guess… I should have told  her that I love her.” </p><p>“Why? Do you?” </p><p>“Yes.” Doyle frowned. “Well, I don’t know. Maybe not. But  she’s been good to me. Understanding.” </p><p>“You just want to make sure there’s a weeping woman or two  at the funeral, don’t you?” </p><p>“That’s more your style, Bodie.” </p><p>“And dumping all this guilt on Claire about how you died  with her in your heart is yours? Make her think she should feel more like a  widow than a friend? Not fair, is it?” </p><p>“You can be so obnoxious.” </p><p>“It’s a talent I’m inordinately proud of.” </p><p>“So, who were your  letters to?” Doyle bit back. He laughed nastily as Bodie’s pale cheeks flushed  pink. “Come on, you owe me a confession or two.” </p><p>“Like I told you, I wrote most of them when I first joined  the mob,” Bodie said, on the defensive. “They’re in a neat little bundle at  home, labelled <em>In the Event of </em><em>My Untimely Demise</em>… Probably all be out of date by the  time it actually happens.” </p><p>“So who are they to?” Doyle persisted. </p><p>“No one you’d know, most of them.” And it took five minutes  of cajoling before Bodie finally burst out, “I wrote <em>you</em> one, you great pillock. Happy now?” </p><p>Doyle was taken aback for a moment, though he supposed that  had been the answer he’d been fishing for. “No, I am <em>not</em> happy now. I want to read it,” he declared. </p><p>“You’re mad.” </p><p>“What if we both go at the same time, or if I go first? I’ll  spend an eternity on those clouds with my curiosity all on fire.” </p><p>“Serve you right, too, you prat.” </p><p>“Come on, what did you say in it?” </p><p>“You can’t possibly think I’d tell you, Ray.” </p><p>“Won’t let you go to sleep until you do,” Doyle said in  childish challenge. </p><p>“Then there’ll be a good chance of you scorching a few clouds  with your curiosity by tomorrow evening, won’t there? Make a pretty sunset for  the mortals.” </p><p>“Bodie… You’re not being fair.” </p><p>“Shouldn’t have told you in the first place, should I? That’s  your fault. You can live with the consequences.” </p><p>“If we both get out of this alive, let me read it.” </p><p>“No.” </p><p>“What’s the point of leaving it until you’re dead? What can’t  you say to me now, anyhow? Bet I can guess.” </p><p>Bodie looked shocked. “Bet you can’t,” he retorted before he  thought better of it. </p><p>Doyle laughed. “I’ll give it a try.” </p><p>“Leave it, Ray,” Bodie said, suddenly tired. “If we get out  alive, ask me then. I might be feeling sentimental enough to show it to you.  But I don’t want to get started on it right now, OK? Not when we should be  trying to sleep.” </p><p>“Just my luck, you coming over all reasonable at the wrong  time,” Doyle complained. Then his head rose again. “You just told me off for  posthumously dumping on Claire – what you’re doing doesn’t strike me as much  different. If what you said in that letter is true, mate, then you tell me now.  If not, tear the bloody thing up and I’ll live with my assumptions.” </p><p>Bodie glared at him. “It was the same message as yours for  Claire, OK?” </p><p>“What exactly?” </p><p>“Doesn’t matter, because it’s not true anymore.” </p><p>“Don’t sulk, it doesn’t become you.” Doyle watched the pout  fondly, wondering how many hundreds of women it had snared. “Eh, I feel the  same way, you know. There’s a tiny soft spot in my heart with your name on it –” </p><p>“Give it a rest, Ray.” </p><p>“– otherwise how could I ever put up with you?” </p><p>“Just drop it. The letter gets burnt as soon as I get home.” </p><p>“Wasn’t too painful a declaration, was it? If that’s all it  was.” </p><p>“<em>All?</em> You put me  through that and then say ‘if that’s all it was’?” </p><p>Doyle shifted, reached for his gun and began cleaning it  again. “It’s a lot, I know, coming from a tough old son-of-a-bitch like you.” </p><p>“Bloody right, it’s a lot. Never said that sort of thing to  a bloke before. Hardly ever said it to the birds, for that matter.” </p><p>“You got out of actually <em>saying</em> it to me, didn’t you?” Doyle pointed out. </p><p>“Unappreciative sod. And you reckon <em>I’m</em> obnoxious? Damn you – there was another confession in that  letter.” </p><p>“Trying to shock me now?” </p><p>“I wanted to have sex with you!” </p><p>“Do you a lot of good telling me that once you were dead,  wouldn’t it?” </p><p>“What good does it do me telling you now?” </p><p>Doyle shrugged. “None. But it gets it off your chest, at  least. How long have you been chewing on that?” </p><p>“God, you’re cold,” Bodie said, a hint of disgust in his  voice. “I tie myself up in knots, and you don’t give a damn, do you?” </p><p>“At least I didn’t erupt into an offended rage and bounce  you off the walls.” </p><p>“You and whose army?” Bodie muttered from habit, drawing  into himself. </p><p>“You’re sulking again. Not used to people turning you down,  are you? The Bodie charm must wear thin on close acquaintance. Anyway, there’s  plenty of reasons for me to say no.” Doyle chuckled nastily. “Like, you’d want  to be on top.”</p><p>“We could take turns,” Bodie cautiously offered. </p><p>“No way. We’d end  up fighting, not loving. I know you too well. I’m not going to let you get the  better of me, and vice versa.” </p><p>“The better of you? It wouldn’t be like that – !” </p><p>“I know exactly what it would be like, thank you: a  wrestling match.” </p><p>“A wrestling match with kisses, caresses… and climaxes,”  Bodie added with a laugh. “Sounds fine to me.” </p><p>“You’re nuts, sunshine,” Doyle said, concentrating wholly on  the gun in his hand. “Wouldn’t work.” </p><p>After a while, Bodie asked, “You’re speaking from the  benefit of experience, are you?” </p><p>“Yeah,” Doyle drawled. “Back when I was a tearaway – the  kids I hung out with, didn’t matter to us whether it was a guy or a girl. Real  broadminded, we were. That, or thoroughly immoral. Amoral?” He shrugged. “I don’t  know. Straightened up my act when I joined the force and never went back to it.  Developed a bit of self-respect along the way.” He glanced up. “How about you?” </p><p>“Thought about it sometimes,” Bodie said lightly, “but never  got around to it. Thought I’d give you the honour of being my first.” </p><p>Doyle’s head lifted and his gaze fixed on his partner. “Now  you’re interesting me. Why me and not the others you’ve thought about?” </p><p>“Don’t know – haven’t sat around analysing it. You just had  the time to grow on me, I guess.” Bodie gave a rueful laugh. “Knew I’d blurt it  out sooner or later. Got a big mouth when it comes to getting what I want.” </p><p>“Bet you figured I wouldn’t be able to resist you when you  told me.” </p><p>Bodie allowed, “I thought that I might be able to convince  you.” </p><p>“To do what? A one-night  rumble and forget about it in the morning? You <em>are</em> nuts.” </p><p>“Do I have a chance or not?” </p><p>“Keep talking,” Doyle invited. “Passes the time nicely.” </p><p>“Bastard.” Bodie sat silent for a while, before saying, “Read  the paper today? Your stars were hot on romance. Mine were, too – couldn’t be a  coincidence.” </p><p>“Romance?” Doyle looked up at him, considering. “Figured  this was just sexual. You’re getting soft in your old age, mate.” </p><p>“Maybe.” Then Bodie grimaced. “I mean, it isn’t a fully-fledged  grand passion yet, but the groundwork’s there. If you want to build on it, Ray.” </p><p>“How would you know what you’re feeling? You’ve never even  touched a guy before. What if you don’t like it?” </p><p>“Then I give it up as a bad joke. No regrets if I’ve tried  it, at least. If I don’t get you off-side in the process, of course, which is  always a distinct possibility.” </p><p>Doyle let a few beats pass. “What if I offered a one-night  rumble, after all?” he said. “And discuss it afterwards?” </p><p>“If we’re talking about tonight, when’s afterwards?” </p><p>“After the op. Won’t matter if we’re dead. And if we happen  to come through it, we can dismiss the rumble as a crazy attempt to cope with  the pressure.” </p><p>“Unless…” </p><p>“Yeah – unless.” </p><p>“All right,” Bodie said. </p><p>Doyle hid a grin as he replaced the gun in its holster, the  holster in reach by his sleeping bag. “Of course,” he continued, just able to  smother the teasing tone that threatened him, “sex might dull our reactions  tomorrow. Probably not the smartest idea we’ve ever had.”</p><p>“Thinking about it is worse than doing it, that’s what you  said,” Bodie replied anxiously. “Down at the White Lion, remember?” </p><p>“Yeah… And we’re definitely thinking about it, aren’t we,  sunshine?” He favoured his partner with a long, slow smile. “Days of my youth,  this reminds me of – a hard floor, a first time, a mate. Not giving a damn  about anything or anyone else.” </p><p>“Was it good back then?” Bodie asked, so easily spellbound. </p><p>“Be better now. Least I can do is make it good for you.”  Doyle returned Bodie’s gaze for a serious moment. “Now, who’s on top first?  Could toss a coin – heads I win, tails you lose.” </p><p>“Cheeky bastard!” Bodie’s expression was equal parts fury  and hilarity. “I ought to just jump you.” </p><p>“Is that wise?” Doyle mused. </p><p>“Not since you were officially listed as a lethal weapon,  no.” He sighed. “So, how do I stop you <em>talking</em> about it? I’m going to drop dead of frustration at this rate, forget the op.” </p><p>“Use that imagination of yours…” </p><p>“And my experience – surely some small part of my vast  talent with the birds can be applied to the present situation?” </p><p>Doyle’s face suddenly shuttered closed. “Don’t you treat me  like one of your birds, Bodie. I’m worth better than that.” </p><p>“All right.” Bodie frowned, looked away. “You want this or  not?” he asked. </p><p>“I’m willing.” </p><p>“A bit of warmth wouldn’t go astray, sunshine.” </p><p>“So come over here.” </p><p>Bodie shot him an exasperated look, but shuffled around in  his sleeping bag so that he sat beside Doyle. They were silent for a moment,  until Bodie let out a groan. “The intruder alert system <em>is</em> on, right? Wouldn’t want one of those coppers wandering in at  the wrong time.” </p><p>“It’s on. We’re all alone.” </p><p>“Cowley would love us getting arrested for having it off in  a public place just before the op, wouldn’t he? What would they charge us with  – what’s it called legally?” </p><p>Doyle smiled in genuine amusement, which still couldn’t hide  his nervousness. “It’s called sex, Bodie,” he said flatly. “So, are you going  to kiss me or not?” </p><p>“Of course I am, sunshine.” And Bodie leant forward and at  last met Doyle’s lips with his own. Mouths busy, they eased down until each was  propped on an elbow. Bodie drew his partner closer, let his hand run down Doyle’s  wiry back, moaned a little as his chest met Doyle’s, frustrated as the bulk of  their sleeping bags prevented any further contact. </p><p>Bodie broke away abruptly. “Christ, Ray,” he said urgently, “let  me at you.” </p><p>Doyle chuckled evilly, pulled at his sleeping bag’s zipper. “Get  out of that thing, then,” he replied. Bodie kicked his legs free, moved in to lie  against Doyle, let out a groan both lusty and content, gathered his partner up  and kissed him. Doyle’s hand travelled down to Bodie’s hip and then his thigh,  sparking flames within Bodie. It was Doyle who pulled away from the kiss this  time, while Bodie, mouth needy, ducked his head to nuzzle against Doyle’s throat. </p><p>“No wonder the birds adore you. For one night, at least.  Until the charm wears thin.” </p><p>“Shut up, Ray,” Bodie said, hands and lips continuing their  foray. “Don’t you ever stop talking?” </p><p>“Depends.” Doyle sounded breathless, unwary. </p><p>“Maybe I can distract you,” Bodie murmured. And he rolled  over to take the man utterly to him, mouth searching for the taste of Doyle’s  loving, arms gathering the strangely familiar body close beneath his hunger. </p><p>And was fighting a wild thing. </p><p>“Get off me!” Doyle cried.</p><p>“All right, then – let me go and I will!” Bodie moved back  to lie alone again. “Lord, what’s the problem?” </p><p>Doyle sat up, so that his back was turned to his partner. “Not  like that,” he said after a while. “Don’t try to intimidate me, Bodie.” </p><p>“I happen to be larger than you, if you hadn’t noticed. Not  my fault. Around you, it’s not meant to intimidate.” </p><p>“I won’t let you get the better of me, Bodie. I don’t let  you when we’re working, either.” </p><p>“Crap, Ray. You got that out of your system – we both did – years  ago. We’re a team, right? Neither better than the other.” </p><p>“You’re too arrogant to really believe that.” </p><p>“Then you don’t know me at all, do you?” Bodie sighed. “Don’t  give up on me. Come on, sunshine… let me have some of that loving.” He lifted a hand to run over the fine muscled curves, to push up under the t-shirt, to caress the cooling skin. “I’ve been waiting so patiently, sweetheart…” Then he offered with wicked glee, “Your turn on top  now?” </p><p>Doyle growled, swung round to his partner. In one fell  swoop, he had Bodie’s hands pinned to the floor above his head and was kissing  him with angry passion. Somewhere within himself, Bodie chuckled, more than  happy to submit to Ray’s  rough ministrations if that got him what he wanted. Which it soon did – Doyle  set them a fast and beautifully furious pace. And afterwards, Bodie held Doyle’s  sleep-heavy body with an emotion closer to tenderness than he’d ever thought  himself capable of. </p><p>♦</p><p>“I’m not one for pep talks,” Cowley said, walking past them,  “but there’s two weeks’ leave coming to you when this is over.” </p><p>Doyle watched the Scot leave. “Two weeks? Maybe he knows  something we don’t.” Which was too disquieting an idea to dwell on. </p><p>Bodie moved away a little, turned to look back at his  partner, who had hidden behind dark sunglasses and was chewing gum, as if that  would mask the fear. </p><p>“You scared?” Bodie asked carefully, hardly expecting an  answer. </p><p>But Doyle nodded after a moment. “Yeah. And you?” </p><p>Even faced with the dark glasses, Bodie had to look away  from the honesty. “Yeah,” he admitted, a little rueful, and met Doyle’s gaze  again. “All the time.” </p><p>“I was right. We’re going to die,” Doyle said with a glint  of satisfied irony. </p><p>“No, we’re not,” Bodie replied in an excessively reasonable  tone. “We’re going to have two weeks’ holiday, that’s what we’re going to do.  Where shall we go – the coast? Fishing? Cornwall? Wales?” </p><p>“You said that you loved me in that damn letter, didn’t you?”  The words as tautly unhappy as the face. “And now you want to run off to Wales  for a two week honeymoon.” </p><p>“<em>After </em>the op,  Doyle. We’ll discuss it then, just like you said.” </p><p>“What if I want you to say it now? If one of us goes – the  other should <em>know</em>, damn it all to  hell. I didn’t leave you a letter, did I?” </p><p>“We do know, mate,” Bodie said, frustration uppermost again.  “We already know. And it’s something we have to talk about, before we can get  on with the job. But we don’t have the time right now – we have to see this  bloody op through.” </p><p>“Christ, Bodie…” </p><p>“Look, you can’t afford to care that much for me. If there’s  a guy shooting at Parsali, and another one shooting at me, which do you go for?  It could come down to that.” Bodie grinned humourlessly. “See? You hesitated.  You knew the right answer was Parsali and you still hesitated.” </p><p>“I wouldn’t hesitate on the job – you know that, you  bastard. And I know that you wouldn’t. We’ve lived with that for years.” </p><p>“Maybe last night was all we’ll ever have,” Bodie continued,  calm against Doyle’s anger. “Even if we get through this alive, then we’ll  still have to sort out whether we can let you and me happen or not.” </p><p>Doyle was silent for a long while. “I hate you, Bodie.” </p><p>“I know, sunshine. Come on, then, let’s go get ready.” And Doyle  suffered Bodie placing a comradely arm around his shoulders, just for a moment.  They headed back to their gear. “This fatalistic attitude of yours – I thought  we got that sorted last night, Ray.” </p><p>“When Cowley starts promising two weeks’ leave, you know you’re  in trouble,” Doyle complained, but it sounded more like his habitual grumble. </p><p>Bodie laughed, relieved. “Nothing’s changed – the Cow had  you spooked, anyhow. He’s just in a generous mood for once. Must have got out  of the right side of someone’s bed this morning.” </p><p>Doyle smiled at his partner, beginning to find the necessary  balance between the fear and the confidence. “Fatalistic? Hell, bullets bounce  off me.” And he found that Bodie’s grin was as infectious as ever. “Lord, what  did I ever do to get landed with you for a partner?” he asked. </p><p>♦</p><p>The call came in as Bodie and Cowley made their way back  inside from seeing Parsali safely off in the helicopter. “Five-one to Alpha.  Two down – the hitman and a getaway driver. Might be Rio, I can’t be sure. No  one else hurt.” </p><p>“Acknowledged, five-one.” Cowley slid his R/T away and  lifted his eyebrows at Bodie’s unguarded expression of relief. “It’s over,  then,” Cowley observed drily. </p><p>“Yes, sir.” Bodie restrained himself from adding, <em>Thank  God, sir. </em></p><p>The two reached the body that lay tumbled back down the  stairs like a puppet with its strings cut. Cowley almost growled in disgust. “Dumdums.  The bastards – why did they have to use dumdums?” </p><p>Bodie swallowed uncomfortably, knowing exactly why. “Maybe  it seemed like a good idea at the time,” he said. Then he added, softly, so  that Cowley could choose not to hear, “Could have done with this guy on our  side, dumdums or not. Met him once. Knew he was good.” </p><p>Cowley cast him a look, but didn’t comment. “I’d better get  down there and identify Rio.” And Bodie impatiently accompanied him on the slow  walk down through the grounds, unheeding of the lush green beauty around him. </p><p>Beyond the other hitman’s body, Doyle was crouched by the  timeless peace of the lake, absently contemplating his gun as he held it  loosely in both hands. Bodie passed Cowley and the others and Rio’s smashed car  without a glance, and went to kneel by his partner. “You got the guy,” he  stated the obvious. It couldn’t have been any of the others – his first sight  of Doyle’s introspection had told Bodie that. </p><p>“He forced it,” Doyle said bitterly. “I had him, both of us  still, I had a clear shot – then he went for his gun again. He didn’t have to  die.” </p><p>“His choice, then, not yours. You did well.” Bodie shared  his partner’s silence for a moment, then he said gently, “We got through it,  you and me.” </p><p>“Only just. You hesitated.” </p><p>“I recognized the first guy. Met him down at the White Lion  – he’s the one who helped me with that punk with the knife the other day,  remember? Thought he was a friendly, until I realized he had no business being  there. I still got him in time.” </p><p>“Yeah. Them or us. Once again, it was them – we’re pushing  our luck, Bodie.” </p><p>“You know what? They knew they were going to die. Not going  to let you ever think that, Ray. Not going to let it happen.” </p><p>“You’re as crazy as they come, don’t know why Cowley lets  you carry a gun,” Doyle started complaining softly. “Certifiable.” </p><p>Bodie stood, hauled Doyle up with him. “Come on, sunshine,  let’s get our reports done, then it’s holiday time. Should be out of HQ by six  if we type fast. Then out of London, that’s what we need, find a pub on the road  for tonight. A pub with a twin room,” he added with a suggestively lifted  eyebrow. </p><p>Cowley fell in beside them as they walked back towards the  house. “That was Rio, all right, though he’d changed his hair, shaved his  beard. But I don’t know the others, or who hired Rio in the first place. Bodie,  if you knew the one on the stairs, you’d better see what you can dig up about  him first thing tomorrow.” </p><p>“No way, sir. I’ll put what I know in my report, not that I  think it’ll help much, but we’re on two weeks’ leave as of tonight.” </p><p>“Insubordination again, Bodie…? I said you’d have the leave  when this is over.” </p><p>“It <em>is</em> over as far  as we’re concerned, sir. We did the job you wanted us to do, now we need that  time off. Jenkins can do the follow-up for you.” </p><p>Cowley looked over at Bodie’s determination, could easily  read how close the man was to genuine anger. And beside him, Doyle was still as  tense and drawn as he had been that morning, his silence oddly empty. </p><p>“All right,” Cowley said as they neared the house again, “as  soon as you’ve finished those reports. Complete in every detail, mind!” </p><p>“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Bodie spared him a wan smile  before shepherding his partner back inside. “Almost there, Ray,” he promised. </p><p>♦</p><p>Doyle turned from Bodie’s kiss with a satisfied sigh, lay  back beside him in the grass and sunlight with eyes closed and smile broad. “You  have some pretty good ideas, mate, every now and then.” </p><p>“This holiday was one of my better ones,” Bodie agreed. “But  you can take the credit for finding this place.” He looked around them at the  sheltered forest dell that Doyle had stumbled on during one of their rambles  through the Welsh countryside. An hour’s solid walk from any hint of  civilization, it hadn’t taken them long to abandon themselves utterly to its  privacy. Both too new to having the loving of another man, they were  uncomfortable being together at the hotel, even though it was virtually empty  during this late Indian summer. But out here, they could be as wild and  oblivious to the rest of the human race as they needed. </p><p>Bodie’s gaze fell away from the endlessness of the pale blue  sky, and he let it come to rest on his partner. Slowly, all the fear and strain  of the Parsali op had ebbed away from them both over the past few days, and  Bodie hoped to ensure that it would never return. It had been a time isolated  from their normal lives, in that they’d never let the everyday dangers of their  job rattle them so completely. From now on, they’d…</p><p>“Eh, you said we’d talk,” Doyle interrupted his thoughts,  voice mild. </p><p>“I always find better things to do around you, sunshine. You’re  very distracting.” </p><p>Doyle bubbled over with the pure laughter that made Bodie  chuckle every time he heard it. “You sound so disgustingly pleased with  yourself.” </p><p>“Really?” Bodie asked with mock disbelief. He pulled Doyle  close again, gathered him up and rolled back with the man on top of him. Doyle  happily snuggled into the embrace. </p><p>“You said we had to decide whether we could let you and me  happen or not,” Doyle continued lazily. Then he added with more energy, “You  even said you were off to Hell without me when you die.” </p><p>Bodie seemed bemused at this recollection. “Did I really say  all that, sweetheart?” </p><p>“You know, the only way this will work is if –” </p><p>“Yeah, I know. All or nothing.” Bodie was silent for a  while, letting the heat of the sun and of the body in his arms soak into him. “Still  hate me, Ray?” </p><p>“You know I do,” Doyle said, in utter contentment. </p><p>“Yeah. And I hate you, too, mate.” </p><p>Doyle lifted his head and shot him the look that Bodie  prayed he’d one day be able to read. “I want to feel your weight on me,” Doyle  said. And Bodie pushed over to take his partner’s relaxed sprawl beneath him,  to start yet another variation of the sweetest game of loving that he’d ever  been a part of. </p><p>♦</p>
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